


Not Your Boy

by blacktofade



Series: Kingsman Tumblr Prompts [1]
Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Blood, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Near Death Experiences
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-25
Updated: 2015-05-25
Packaged: 2018-04-01 05:45:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4008097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blacktofade/pseuds/blacktofade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A mission goes wrong and Harry has to take care of Eggsy until the extraction team arrives.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Your Boy

**Author's Note:**

> For the prompt: prompt bc i'm weak af for eggsy almost dying like riiiight there and harry giving him soulful confessions of heart wrenching love and being like frantic with it yessssss
> 
> Not exactly a love confession, but for harry i suspect it’s close enough ;__;

The most terrifying thing about the blood on Harry’s hands is the fact that it isn’t his own. His own blood he can deal with, but not —

“Gawain,” Harry tries, pressing down helplessly against the bloodied, torn up suit beneath his palms. “ _Eggsy_.”

There’s nothing but a low wheeze and crackle from Eggsy and Harry has the awful, sinking suspicion that one of Eggsy’s lungs might have collapsed.

“Eggsy,” Harry pleads. “Report.”

Harry doesn’t need Eggsy to report, though; he saw every step of the fight that broke out between Eggsy and the mark, saw every swipe of the penknife the mark had pulled from his pocket, saw how easily it had disappeared into Eggsy’s side, completely unsuspected. Lancelot is in pursuit of the man and Harry doesn’t think he’ll make it far, not when Roxy sets her mind to something, and not when Eggsy is involved.

Unfortunately, they seem to share the same weak point, with Eggsy being Roxy’s best friend and Eggsy being Harry’s — well it’s neither here nor there. And it’s certainly not the moment for it. What Harry thinks about Eggsy is confined to the privacy of his own home, nowhere else.

There’s a cough from Eggsy and it’s weak and sounds as though it’s the most painful thing Eggy has ever done, but it gives Harry the slightest hope.

“Eggsy, we need to reinflate your lung,” Harry tells him, though when Eggsy blinks and opens his eyes, they don’t focus on anything other than the middle distance.

He doesn’t know how to do it without it being even more excruciating for Eggsy and there isn’t anything sharp, other than the penknife that’s bloody and resting beside Eggsy’s shoulder. He’s sure there’s some kind of motto for Kingsman agents and their resourcefulness, but Harry takes no pleasure in grabbing the knife.

It’s slippery with Eggsy’s blood, but his hand is surprisingly steady with his fingers clenched tightly around the handle.

With his other hand, he takes momentary pressure off the wounds already in Eggsy’s side and peels up the hem of Eggsy’s starched shirt, revealing soft skin and even more blood. He feels blindly through the mess for Eggsy’s ribs with his fingertips and hopes he doesn’t do even more damage.

With a slow breath out, Harry says, “Hold on, Eggsy.”

Harry knows what it feels like to stab someone, knows how easily flesh gives way to a good, sharp knife, but his skin crawls knowing it’s Eggsy’s flesh. Eggsy jerks slightly, his lips tinged blue, but Harry keeps him steady and digs in just a little further. He almost gives up completely when Eggsy meets his gaze, lips red from yet more blood, his expression similar to confused disbelief as though Eggsy believes Harry is the one who has left him to die in the street as he is.

“That’s it, Eggsy,” Harry murmurs. “Almost there.”

He’s sure that if Eggsy were in any other position — other than lying on the cold pavement, quickly bleeding out — he would have a comment about Freud or innuendo. And as usual, Harry would pretend to ignore it, but would savour every glimpse of Eggsy’s true personality he was shown.

“This’ll get easier,” Harry promises, already reaching into his lapel pocket for his fountain pen.

He carefully pierces the solid end of the lid with the pen nib, uncaring that it breaks in the process, he just needs something tubelike with holes in both ends. It makes it perfect for letting the air out of Eggsy’s chest, though it’s a little thicker than Harry would have preferred. It’ll hurt Eggsy going in, but hopefully the fact that it may save his life will outweigh the cons.

Eggsy’s hand clenches as Harry pulls the knife out and replaces it without pen lid, and he makes a pained noise as Harry slides it into place. There’s a faint whistle of air pushing through open space and Eggsy’s breathing slowly loses the crackling edge to it.

Eggsy lets out another rattling cough, though it sounds clearer now, and Harry knows he has to focus on the blood loss. Eggsy won’t be able to stay conscious for much longer, not with the amount of blood already pooling around them.

“Merlin,” Harry snaps, returning to putting pressure on Eggsy’s wounds. “A little help would be appreciated.”

Merlin’s voice flares to life almost immediately.

“The extraction team is three minutes out, Galahad. Keep him breathing. Don’t let him give up.”

Harry doesn’t plan on it anytime soon.

“Tell them to hurry,” Harry says instead and Merlin cuts out, probably returning to the other team’s channel to report in.

Slowly, Harry drops his head, nose almost pressing against Eggsy’s collarbone as he shuts his eyes and breathes in deep.

“C’mon Eggsy,” he pleads. “Don’t go; not yet. We need you.”

Something cool and slightly wet grazes the back of his head and Harry belatedly realises it’s Eggsy’s hand, fingers threading into his hair, clearly meant to comfort, which is what Harry should be doing for Eggsy, not the other way around.

“Not going anywhere, old man,” Eggsy says around long, slow breaths, though whether it’s true or not is another matter.

Harry tilts his face just enough that his nose brushes Eggsy’s jaw instead and he feels Eggsy lean into the touch.

“When I’m healed,” Eggsy starts before pausing and for a moment Harry thinks he’s just catching his breath, but then the hand on his head slackens and Eggsy’s arm drops away, back to the pavement with a dull thud.

Panicked, Harry sits back enough to see that Eggsy has passed out, his expression smooth, but his heart still stubbornly beating. Harry doesn’t know what else to do, which is lucky that it’s then that the extraction team appears around the corner, trained doctors taking over from Harry and surrounding Eggsy with equipment.

Harry rubs his hand over his forehead before he even remembers he still has blood on his palm and he knows it’s his job to remain professional, but he can’t help the soft, upset noise that slips out of him. Barbero from the extraction team is quickly at his side, wiping Harry’s face with wet wipes and checking him over for injuries.

As it turns out, Harry has three broken toes and a possible concussion, none of which he knew of, though his whole body starts to throb painfully the moment he’s in the evac helicopter, heading back to HQ. The adrenaline is wearing off and Eggsy’s still fighting for his life beside him and all in all, it’s a pretty terrible day.

He keeps a hand on Eggsy’s ankle and tries not to get in the way.

*

It takes three days for Eggsy to wake up enough to be coherent. Coincidentally, Harry hasn’t slept in almost 72 hours, apart from terrifying naps that had him sitting bolt upright and panicking that he’d heard Eggsy flatline. It’s not true, because at seven AM on a tuesday Eggsy blinks at him, then again, before his whole expression softens.

“What are you doing?” Eggsy asks, or at least that’s what Harry thinks he asks because Eggsy’s voice is croaky from disuse and his tongue is clearly refusing to cooperate still with the mix of painkillers he’s being fed through his IV.

But Eggsy grins, definitely high as a kite, and Harry feels as though the entire world has been lifted from his shoulders.

“My boy,” Harry says and Eggsy lets out what could be a laugh, or could be a huffed breath.

“Not your boy,” Eggsy replies, which makes Harry’s stomach jolt until Eggsy follows up with, “unless you want me to call you daddy.”

Harry blinks, taken aback, and smiles before he can help himself.

“Let’s wait until you’re healed completely before that,” Harry tell him and Eggsy grins, looking half-asleep, but he’s healthy and alive and Harry can’t ask for more.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm over [HERE](http://blacktofade.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr or [HERE](https://twitter.com/eggsybacon) on Twitter if you guys want to cry constantly over this lovely movie as I have no one to talk to and far too many emotions /fist clench


End file.
